Read Payback: A Strandville Zombie Series Short for Free Online

died when she and her brother, Billy, were kids, and both Billy and Amy had been in their share of trouble with the law since. While Max never found Amy to be even remotely attractive, with her stringy hair and acne-scarred skin, it was clear why Mitch liked her. The girl knew how to party and she’d do anything for attention. Mitch would never admit it, but Max knew that in his way, Mitch loved her.
    “Borrow him for what?” Max said, still unclear what he’d signed on for. His phone rang for the at least the fifth time since the previous day’s loss and he sent it immediately to voicemail, wondering how long until his bookie sent thugs to his house . The mental math to calculate his total debt had become too hard, but people had their legs broken over less.
    “Everything all right?” Mitch turned off the headlights and took a left on Pike Rd. He passed the widow Hinkle’s place and pulled over.
    “Everything’s fine. What are we doing?”
    Mitch pointed at a blue ranch house a few doors down. “The girl’s name is Carlene.” He slipped the tiny, red collar from around the puppy’s neck. “I’ve been casing her place the past couple of weeks. She comes out every morning at six to bring coffee to a couple of paramedics.”
    “Are we going to kill her?”
    Mitch let a moment pass before answering. “No, we’re not going to kill her. We’re going to take her to the Nixon Center and pretend none of this ever happened. As soon as the coast is clear, I’m going to let J.D. loose. I’ll try to lure Carlene, but if she runs, you catch her. And if we go into the house, you follow. You hear me?”
    Max nodded, knowing Mitch was capable of things he didn’t want to be part of.
    A white ambulance with the words “Strandville EMS” in deep red lettering parked curbside in front of the small house.
    An early-thirties woman emerged with disposable coffee cups. Her light brown hair hung in tangles over her shoulders and her terry cloth bathrobe collected leaves from the sidewalk. She handed the coffee through the ambulance’s passenger’s side window and engaged in brief conversation.
    The medics waved thanks, bid their farewells, and drove out of sight.
    Carlene turned to open her mailbox and Mitch waved for Max to get out of the van. He held a finger to his lips, telling him to be quiet, and set J.D. out on the sidewalk.
    As soon as the puppy’s paws hit the pavement, he ran off toward the hedgerow that partially obscured the van. Mitch waited until J.D. was far enough away to begin calling him. The empty leash dangled from his hand for effect.
    Max watched, waiting behind the van.
    “Excuse me. Have you seen a little black and brown pup?” Mitch asked Carlene. “He slipped out of his collar and my daughter’s going to be crushed if I don’t bring him home.”
    Max shook his head, disbelieving of how benign Mitch could look when he wanted to.
    Carlene helped Mitch search for J.D. who was gnawing a dead tree branch on the far side of her property line. Mitch let her be the one to find him and after thanking her profusely, convinced her to let him inside to use her phone.
    Mitch had said that if they went inside, Max was to follow and though he almost drove off, twice, he knew from what Mitch told him that Dr. Howard Nixon, Strandville’s humanitarian and the Nixon Center’s namesake, was a bigger threat to him and his family than the bookie.
    “You can do this,” Max said. “You have to do this.”
    By the time he walked through the front door, Carlene and Mitch were already struggling. Mitch had her face down on the floor and was trying to uncap a syringe with his teeth. Carlene bucked and kicked, bit and screamed, and broke free twice before Max decided to step in and grab her.
    “About goddamn time,” Mitch shouted.
    Carlene clawed Max’s face, igniting a fire in him that had her pinned in a matter of seconds.
    “Hurry up,” he shouted and moved aside so that Mitch could inject her with the